Batman : Full Circle
by Despernot
Summary: After seemingly intending to leave Gotham for good, the Joker meets a mysterious end in Arkham. Batman faces the beginnings of a very sinister puzzle, involving a shady psychiatrist, a local gang lord, and an 'innocent bystander'.


Batman: Full Circle

There was one building on the outskirts of the city that would forever be cast in shadows. Its walls were high, its windows dark and –just like the countless doors within- always locked. There were hallways upon hallways of silence and echoes, screams and whimpers, shouting and sighing. There were rooms full of things that haunted the corners of the mind, closets full of terrors, and beds in which the monsters slept on top instead of lurking out of sight beneath.

There were no pretences here; everything was what it was, and what it was was open to interpretation. Black could be white, if you preferred, up could be down, and right was almost always wrong.

That being the case, perhaps the man who entered that night should not have been so absolutely convinced he was doing the right thing. He did not think twice about it at the time; he had done it so many countless times before. Yes, what he was doing was the thing to do…the _only_ thing to do.

He was a familiar sight in the hallways full of staring eyes. They watched him from behind bars as he passed by, carrying one of their own. He was a part of all their lives; most of them were here because of him.

He was every bit as grim as they remembered, every bit as mysterious, with his face half-hidden behind a mask and his body wrapped in a dark cloak. However, tonight his cloak was stained and torn in places. The figured he carried in his arms, like a father carrying a sleeping child, had given him trouble tonight; they could see that.

They listened with rapture as he told the men in white coats of tonight's escapade. They relished every detail. Their friend got out so often, and did such wonderful things on the outside. They were so very proud every time he returned, though he never liked them to say so. They loved to listen to the stories about him, told by the funny man who dressed like a bat, with his mask and his dark cloak.

"…that I got there in time," the Bat was saying to one of the white coats. "He wouldn't tell me where he was heading."

"We'll take it from here," the white coat replied with a nod.

The eyes watched as their friend was strapped to a table on wheels. His head lolled to one side, a trickle of blood winding its way down from the corner of his mouth to his chin. He had put up a good fight this time; he must not have wanted to come back yet…he must not have been quite finished on the outside.

The white coat wheeled him away, and the Bat disappeared as usual. The eyes began to whisper among themselves, wondering, speculating…sifting through a quagmire of fragmented thoughts that would never lead them anywhere.

The Bat had a name, hidden with a face beneath his mask. It was Bruce Wayne, and he guarded it carefully. Therefore, when he heard the first part of it called out to him in one of the silent hallways, he felt a cold stab of fear.

"We didn't expect you so soon," one of the orderlies said, walking briskly towards him.

Before Bruce could reply, a deep, pleasant voice did so in his stead. Turning, he beheld another man, one who evidently shared his name.

"I caught an early flight…I was eager to begin my duties here as soon as possible," the second Bruce said. He had dark skin, and his voice was rich with an English accent that perfectly complimented his crisp business attire and handsome features. He looked like something ordered out of a catalogue, or plucked from the pages of a book.

"How fortunate," he said "that I have arrived in time to meet Gotham's famed Dark Knight." His hand came out of his suit pocket, and he extended it to Bruce with a genteel smile. "Well met, I hope. Your name is legend in England. Allow me to introduce myself; I am Dr. Bruce Herring, head of psychology at St. Anne's in Yorkshire. I am called to Gotham to relieve Dr. Lehrman of his duties while he absconds to Hawaii with his wife," he explained, winking.

"I don't envy your job, Doctor," Bruce said as he shook his hand.

"Nor I yours."

A moment passed in which Dr. Herring seemed to be sizing Bruce up; looking him over to see if he was everything his name implied. He appeared at last to decide that he was not much disappointed, and continued to walk down the hallway, Bruce and the orderly falling into step.

"So, I understand you brought the Joker back to us tonight?" he said, flipping through a file the orderly handed him. "What was the game this time?"

"For once, I don't know," Bruce admitted, frowning. "Joker likes to announce his crimes in some way. He lives for the theatrical, but this time there was no warning and the crime was almost ordinary, with no frills attached."

"What did he do?"

"He tried to steal a private jet."

"Any idea where he was going?"

"No, he wouldn't say."

That was putting it lightly, Bruce thought to himself. He could still see his nemesis' grinning face before him in the half-light of the air field. He could still hear him laughing…enjoying the frustration he was causing.

"_You can't stand it, can you?"_ he had said, not even bothering to struggle as Bruce pulled him forward by his shirt collar.

"_The very idea…that I'm not going to be playing in your backyard anymore…"_

"_You're not making sense, Joker. Where were you going?"_

"_See, this is why I wanted to leave quietly. I knew you'd take it the wrong way."_ He made an effort to arrange his face into some semblance of a serious expression. _"It's not you, love, it's me. See, there's an opportunity that I just can't pass up."_

That was the most Bruce had been able to get from him. He had been right though; the idea that he might have been trying to leave Gotham, possibly for good, disturbed him quite a bit. Batman could not be everywhere, and who would keep an eye on the Joker if he was out of reach?

"Well," Dr. Herring said, forcing Bruce's thoughts back into the present, "I'm certain we can get that information from him. He's not the only one with an ace up his sleeve."

"I don't follow you, Doctor."

Herring shut the folder and handed it back to the orderly. They had reached Dr. Lehrman's office, which he was evidently using as his own for the time being. He laid a hand on the door knob and turned to face Bruce with a burning glint in his eye.

"I may be here on a temporary assignment, Batman, but I intend to make the most of it…to do the best I can. It's high time Arkham considered adopting a few new approaches to some of these criminals."

"What are you suggesting?"

The doctor smiled winningly, his entire demeanor changing at once. "At the moment? Nothing. I am simply observing."

He opened the door, and Bruce, taking their conversation to be over, turned to leave.

"Batman?" Herring called, his deep voice carrying down the hall. "It was a pleasure to meet you at last."

"Likewise," Bruce returned.

With a nod, Herring disappeared into Lehrman's office. Bruce hesitated a moment, trying to determine what exactly he felt about this new, temporary head of psychology. Something was gnawing at his gut, making him go over the doctor's words again and again without any clear idea of what he was looking for.

In this way he slipped from the building and into the night, knowing that something was not right, but completely unsuspecting that anything might be seriously wrong.


End file.
